


Of Hunters and Seers

by brothebro



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Barbara is not his mom, Changeling Jim Lake Jr, Fluff and Angst, Gay Male Character, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, More tags to be added, OT3, Other, Poly Relationship, Roleswap, Secret Identity, Secrets, Strickler is Jim's dad, Troll Jim Lake Jr., Trollhunter Strickler, gaggletacks and shenanigans, human strickler, male!Claire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 19:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16729011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brothebro/pseuds/brothebro
Summary: Jim Sturges-Strickler is a 15 years old kid that finds a strange glowy object on his way to school. An object that is calling his dad's name. Strange huh?





	Of Hunters and Seers

**Author's Note:**

> A very huge thanks to TunafishPrincess (Eclipsia (uncreativefanficwritername)) for helping me with grammar and spelling and for giving me awesome plot ideas! Couldn't have done it without you!  
> Also, a big thanks to our little Jeves Discord for being awesome and fun!  
> P.S rarepairs FTW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Some swearing  
> -homophobia

Jim was sleeping soundly, unaware of the events about to transpire beneath Arcadia’s bridge. There was nothing out of the ordinary in his cozy little room. He turned to his other side, dreaming of the perfect date with the boy of his dreams. Carlos Nuñez.

_ They were walking hand in hand, down a beautiful flowery trail in Arcadia Oak’s Park. Carlos tugged his hand slowly making him slow down and stand on his toes to meet Carlos’s gaze. Carlos proceeded to gently touch Jim’s cheek with his soft lips.  _

 

Suddenly Jim’s dream faded. Darkness surrounded him. 

 

His brows furrowed, eyes moving rapidly beneath shut eyelids.

 

_ It was dark. _

 

_ He was alone.  _

 

_ He recognized the location. The bed of the dried canal he used every time he overdid it with cooking and was about to be late for school. Arcadia’s bridge stood imposing and inexplicably ominous from that point of view.  _

 

_ He heard metal clanking against metal and something else. What was that…? Metal scratching rock? And then a deep growl? Impossible.  _

 

_ He noticed two clearly not human figures entangled in a violent dance of swords. _

 

_ “Yield Kanjigar!”  _

_  
_ _ “A Trollhunter never yields.”  _

….

The scene shifted as if fastforwarding a vhs cassette to reach the next episode of the series. 

 

_ In front of him stood a literal monster. Dark grey rock for skin, covered in all sorts of cuts and scratches. Big horns were curled around its face, bright red eyes glaring at him.  _

 

_ Jim felt his body move against his will, as it tried to parry the big sword the monster was holding. The monster leaned towards him pushing him into the morning sun. Jim screamed as the unforgiving sun rays burned his flesh. _

 

_ He heard the monster growl. _

 

_ “It’s me or the sun. Either way you’re doomed.” _

 

_ “No.” A voice said sternly, which Jim recognized as one of the figures fighting before. As his mouth started to move again he realized that the voice was coming from his body. ”The amulet will find a champion. We will stop you and your master.” He straightened his posture. ”I may end, but the fight will not.” He took a step back, crossed his arms on his chest and let his body fall off the bridge.  _

 

Jim woke up breathing heavily. Instinctively, he brushed the sweat off his forehead with his forearm. He sat up, drank from the water bottle he kept on his nightstand and stared blankly outside the window, actively trying to calm his frantic heartbeat. It had been a while since he’d had such a vivid nightmare.

* * *

  
  
  


“I’m telling you Tobes! It felt so real! It was like being the protag in a movie.”

 

“It sure sounds aaaaaawesomesauce!” Toby exclaimed raising both his arms and in the process losing balance and almost falling off his bike. “What’d you say we take the canals today? Just for the fun of it.”

 

“Heck yeah we should!” Jim smiled widely and pedalled faster. 

 

“Hey wait up” the stout teen huffed “You’re going too fa-”

 

At that moment Jim flew off the canal landing smoothly on the cement surface. Toby’s landing on the other hand wasn’t as smooth. He lost balance midway, swerved right and left for a few feet, only to land face down before some stray pile of rocks. 

 

“I’m ok ! I’m ok!” he exclaimed, franticly dusting off his clothes.

 

«Walter Strickler»

 

“What was that?” the taller teen’s eyes widened.

Before Toby could answer the voice spoke once more. Loud and clear.

 

«Walter Strickler»

 

“I, I think it came from the pile of rocks” Toby sat on the floor and started digging through the rocks. Jim proceeded to help his friend find the source of the mysterious voice that was calling his father’s name. 

 

«Walter Strickler» it spoke again and now a faint blue light was visible beneath a hefty rock.

 

“What in the world-” Jim started saying, only to be interrupted by his best friend stating the obvious.

 

“Why is that thing saying your dad’s name dude? Ya think it’s some kind of recording device?”

 

“I have no clue Tobes.” Jim lifted the shiny round metal object inspecting it with his fingers. “Whatever it is we should probably give it to my dad.” The object pulsed an eerie blue glow. Almost like a heartbeat. Jim couldn’t help but stare at the intricate symbols adorning the rim of the watch? Recording device? No, let’s just call it the ‘object’.  For now at least.    
The etched symbols gave off a familiar feeling to the lanky teen. There was a connection to them he just couldn’t really place. He shrugged the feeling off and put the shiny object in his bag. 

 

As the two friends were about climb to their bicycles and get finally going, the school’s bell rang menacingly in the distance.

 

“Oh no! We’re gonna be super late and in so much trouble!” Toby dramatically exclaimed. 

 

“Relax Toby.” Jim said while pedalling fast. “First class is AP History”

 

“Exactly! And your dad’s gonna whoop our asses for being late!” 

* * *

  
  
  


Walter Strickler was a man that valued punctuality. He sternly believed that a great deal of problems would not exist if only people were punctual. He gazed at the classroom full of sleepy indifferent teenagers that were pulling out of their bags their school issued laptops with sloth-like movements. His son was not among these students. Nor was his stout friend. Walter let out an audible sigh and prepared himself for the lecture. 

 

Then the door burst open and two panting teens entered the classroom. 

 

“How nice of you to join us. Mister Sturges, Mister Domzalski.” Strickler said in his thickest british accent. The stronger the accent, the angrier the history teacher was. Today would be an 8, maybe even a 9,  in the scale of 1 being equal Saturday conversation over brunch and 10 being catching a student drunk outside. Walter Strickler hated tardiness this much. 

 

The boys lowered their gaze and muttered silent apologies.

 

“We will talk after the lesson.” The man gave the boys a hard look. No way he would let this mishap slide. “Now let’s begin, shall we?”    
  
Today's lesson was about the Peloponnesian war; one of Walter’s favorite historical periods. There was so much going on in the time of the war and Walter was always excited to teach it. He would also include trivia, like forbidden love stories and irrelevant funny facts,  to spice up the lecture and keep his student’s attention and interest. However, this day didn’t seem to be going well for him. 

 

Firstly, none of his students seemed even remotely interested in what he had to say; he could tell they were mindlessly browsing their social media sites. Secondly, his adopted son was oddly nervous and was chewing no — eating a pencil. Was this normal? He knew Jim’s anxiety was sometimes a force to be reckoned with, but eating a pencil was on a whole different level from biting his nails. Was this actually safe for his health? He’d have to consult his pediatrician. But first. He swiftly moved to the desk his son was sitting.

 

“Jim”, he whispered. “Put that thing down” , he gestured discreetly at the half eaten pencil. 

 

Jim’s eyes widened in surprise. But before he could utter a word Walter spoke again loud and clear.

 

“Jim would you agree with Herodotus’ opinion on his tactics of war, as I described?

“Oh! uh…” Jim glanced back to Toby for a second confused about what his dad had suddenly asked him, the thought of the pencil still lingering in his mind. “Absolutely!” he then added. 

 

Walt was glad no one seemed to have noticed the peculiar little incident. He then continued the question whilst fiddling with his favorite fountain pen. “Excellent. Which tactics specifically?” 

 

His son looked baffled. He obviously had not heard a word of the lesson since he entered the classroom. “ The , uhhhh, winning ones?” he blurted out and the whole class started laughing. Luckily they were spared by the bell.

 

“Jim can I have a word with you in private please?”

 

“Uh, what about me Mr S. ? Should I stay too?” Toby asked.

 

“You can go Toby. I want to talk to Jim about… certain family issues, if you don’t mind.”    
  
The response he got was a short “Oh.” and Toby moonwalking towards the door. Walter raised a brow at this but decided against investing time on young Tobias’s antics. 

 

As soon as Toby got out of the classroom a deep gravelly voice called his full name. 

“ _ Walter Strickler”  _

Walter turned to his son wideyed. “Did you say that?”

 

“No. It was… hang on..” Jim reached for his bag and proceeded to search frantically for the mysterious object. “Aha! here it is! Tobes and I found it at the canal today. That’s actually why we were late. Sorry.”

 

Walter examined the shiny glowy round object his son had handed him. It looked like an antique pocket watch, he thought, probably one of a kind judging by the engravings and the odd pulsating blue stone. He’d have to ask his friend who worked as a museum curator to shed some light to its origins. Ms. Nomura had an eye for things like this. 

 

He stuffed the presumed pocket watch in his suit’s pocket and turned towards the more pressing matter. His son’s consumption of a pencil. 

 

“Jim, I know being just the two us leaves a lot in your plate, but I want you to know that you can always take it easy with the house chores and the cooking. If you’re feeling stressed about them-

 

“Where did this come from dad?” Jim cut him off mid sentence. “You know I love helping around the house. It’s not a bother at all.” 

 

Walter knew his son was being considerate of his two jobs and he really didn’t want the boy to push himself to the limits for him. Ever since Karen left them all those years ago… Things were rough. A teachers’ salary wasn’t enough income for the two of them. So he’d tutor kids at the local library for a small price. It wasn’t perfect, but it was living.

 

“The pencil,” Walter finally said. “You did not accidentally eat the graphite, did you?” The worry on the mans face was obvious. 

 

“I- I don’t know. At least I don’t think so?” Jim stammered, at loss of words, glancing at the half eaten pencil. “Will… will I die?” he asked, wide-eyed.

 

“I do not know. I think it’s unlikely,” Walter answered truthfully. “I’ll phone Dr. Lake, just to be on the safe side though.” 

* * *

  
  
  


Gym class was a disaster. As always. Toby had fallen, face first, off the rope they were supposed to climb and  got a nasty nosebleed accompanied with a blue bruise on his nose, which, in turn, landed him in the infirmary and had left Jim partner-less for the next exercises. 

 

“Now that Domzalski is out of commission,” Coach Lawrence’s loud voice echoed throughout the gym. "Sturges, team up with Nuñez!”

 

Jim glanced to the direction of the theatre boy. He had flinched when he heard his name and was quick to leave the benches where he was participating in a conversation with his friends Mary, Darci and Shannon. The boy with the familiar blue streak in his hair jogged towards him and Jim could hear his heart skipping beats. He hoped his blush wasn’t obvious even though he could feel the heat reaching his cheeks.  _ Think of gross stuff Jim! Those god awful pancakes you had at Papa Roachi’s!  _ __  
  


Surprisingly this move helped.

 

Coach assigned the boys of the class a series of excruciatingly painful exercises, or so Carlos had claimed during a nonstop sequence of crunches, jumping jacks and 1v1 volleyball variant with what seemingly was a 6 lbs ball. 

 

During that last exercise Jim failed to catch the ball once, which hit him on his right arm. Man that thing was heavy.

 

“Ffffuuu-”, he stopped himself from dropping an f-bomb in the middle of class. 

 

The theatre boy rushed at his side, concern adorning his handsome face. _ Damn it Jim! Stop it! Gross pancakes, gross pancakes, gross pancakes.  _ He continued chanting until his expression was a mix of disgust and horror. 

Carlos must have noticed it because he had frozen a few feet away from him, unsure what to do.  _ Idiot! You overdid it! _

“A- are you okay?”, the taller boy asked hesitantly.

 

“Si, si. Perfecto!” Jim started babbling. “Don’t worry about me, it was more shock than anything. ...I think.”, he smiled awkwardly running his fingers through his hair.

 

Carlos did not expect to hear Spanish. 

 

A chuckle escaped him and his tense stance relaxed. “Good. I swear all of us are gonna leave this class bruised in the end. Coach is a slavedriver,” he whispered conspiratorially. 

 

“NUÑEZ! STURGES! CUT THE CHIT-CHAT AND CONTINUE WITH THE EXERCISE!” Coach practically screamed from across the gym. Carlos rolled his eyes at Coach’s remark as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Jim grinned in response and threw the ball at his partner. 

* * *

  
  
  


The changing room was packed with exhausted sweaty teenage boys that wanted nothing else but to finish the day and go home. 

 

Carlos was changing clothes when a thought flashed through his mind. They needed more guys to try out for the school play, “Romeo and Juliet”. Who didn’t like this classic? This was a perfect opportunity, all his male classmates gathered in one place, to ask who he thought would be more interested in joining. 

 

The first person that came to his mind was the boy next to him. Mr. Strickler’s son. What was his name again? Jack? Jacob? He couldn’t remember. He only knew that the boy had two surnames and that no one in school called him Strickler. Probably because it was too confusing for the teachers. 

 

Sure, Mr. Strickler’s son was quiet and plain and faded easily on the background, but Carlos had noticed the fiery energy in those big blue eyes of the boy. The kind of energy often found in actors. Plus, he seemed to be a pretty funny dude going on how he acted in History class earlier. Eh, he’d take the gamble and ask him to try out for a role. 

 

“Soooooooo…”, he started,turning his face to meet the boy’s. “Wanna try out for the school’s play? We really really need more guys to try out. What do -”, he stopped when he noticed the blue patches on his classmate’s left arm. The skinny boy was shirtless, neatly folding his gym clothes in a small pile without looking at them, his attention to what Carlos was saying.

 

“Uuhm…I didn’t do that to you, did I?” Carlos gestured to the boy’s arm.   
  
Jim looked in surprise and then down to his ribcage that sported a similar blue patch. His eyes widened. He touched the bluish skin, but it didn’t hurt like a bruise would. It was rough. Almost like a stone. 

 

“Uuhm.. J-”

 

“It’s Jim.” He smiled. “You didn’t do that, the ball hit me on the other arm.” He glanced back to the blue spots momentarily. “To tell the truth I have no idea how I got those. They don’t even hur —”

 

A loud noise.

 

Someone fell down. Or rather, was pushed down.

 

Both boys’ attention turned towards the sound. They saw Eli lying on the floor, his glasses bended awkwardly beside him. Steve and a bunch of his lackeys were laughing at the sight of the boy and everyone else still in the changing room stared on while keeping a distance. After all, no one wanted to become a target of psycho Steve. If Steve was terrorizing Eli it meant that he wasn’t terrorizing them.

 

“Tell me again, dweeb-face.” Steve put on his smuggest face and lifted the short boy up with his shirt. “Tell me about the creatures and maybe I’ll let you go.”

 

“Or you can let him go right now.” Jim’s brows furrowed and then almost immediately arched up when he realized what he’d just done. He glanced to the taller boy next to him unsure how to continue. 

 

Carlos was speechless and was staring at Jim like he was a madman. He mouthed a silent ‘Dude’ followed by what presumably was a ‘loco’. 

 

“I mean, you know, it would be nice.” Jim continued having lost his previous newfound confidence. He looked around in search for both a possible moral support and an easy exit. He was disappointed and slightly scared when he found none of that. The only remaining people in the room aside from him where Carlos, Eli - now grinning happily at him- and of course Steve and his two lackeys. Both of the latter where standing between the only exit and them. 

 

Steve had not expected someone to confront him and had relaxed his grip on Eli’s shirt, who was now sliding down to gather his stuff. 

 

“Nice would be if you faggots got out of my sight before I make your gay-ass faces look like minced meat.” Steve growled and clenched his fists threatening to throw a punch to whoever got in his way.

 

Jim felt a hand on his shoulder as he was contemplating on what to say that would not out him in front of psycho Steve  — and GOD FORBID **—** the boy he was in love with. At the same time, he wanted to stop this whole charade. Carlos took a step forward, coming between Steve and Jim. 

 

“What the  _ fuck  _ is wrong with you Palchuk?” Carlos leaned forward, putting a finger on Steve’s chest. 

 

“Uh-oh...”, escaped Eli’s mouth, while he was still on the floor trying to fix what was left of his glasses.

 

Jim froze on the spot, his mind running a million miles an hour trying to find a scenario in which no one got hurt. His eyes fell on the short boy on the floor. Well, more hurt.

 

An evil smile formed on Steve’s face at the sight of the angry Nunez boy. And then he pushed him. “Get outta my way sissy!”

 

Carlos’s body slammed with force on a blue locker. The boy wheezed in pain. It took a split second for Jim to register what had just occurred. Black spots formed in his eyes. A deep guttural and inhuman growl escaped his mouth as he lunged forward, his fist connecting with the bully’s jaw. 

 

Steve found himself momentarily airborne, the taste of iron strong in his mouth. The force from the landing completely detached a tooth in his mouth that must have gotten loose from the punch. Steve spit the tooth along with a handful of blood mixed with saliva. He wiped the blood from his mouth with his forearm and spat, lisping, “This is not over Sturges!”, he turned to leave, “ Next time I’ll kick both your asses!”

 

Jim breathed heavily, adrenaline still running through his body. He ignored Steve’s threat even though he knew the bully would keep his word. By hitting him Jim had painted a pretty big target on his back. Instead of trying to come up with a snarky remark he turned his attention to the boy that still lay on the locker. He offered a hand.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“I’ll live.”, Carlos groaned when Jim pulled him up. “Dude, while appreciated, why’d you do that? Now Steve’s never going to leave you alone.”

 

Jim fixated his eyes on a particularly interesting floor tile.  _ Fuck.  _ It wasn’t the fact that he’d signed up for a life full of Steve’s pestering. No. It was that all kind of rumors about him and the boy that had stolen his heart were going to start. He bit the inside of his cheek not knowing what to say. 

 

As Jim was about to muster an answer, Eli spoke reminding them that he was still there. “If you guys want any tips on avoiding Steve hit me up!”, he finger-gunned cheerfully. “I have a three year experience on this after all!” 

 

“Uh..,Sure.” said  Carlos.

 

“Also.” Eli continued, “I want to thank you both for standing up for me.” He paused for a few seconds and then turned his gaze to Carlos, not giving enough time to the other two to respond. “You’re gonna try out for the play this year too, right?”

 

“No way I’m missing it! What role are you trying out for?”

 

“Romeo! You?” Eli exclaimed, a wide toothy grin adorning his features.

 

“Juliet.” Both Jim and Eli raised a brow at Carlos. “I am joking obviously. I’m trying out for Romeo as well.”, he added smiling. Then he turned his attention to Jim. “Are you interested in trying out Jim?”

 

“Please say yes!”, Eli theatrically fell of his knees to beg. “If we don’t get enough people the play will be cancelled!”

 

_ Ah, right, the play. Carlos was saying something about the play before things went south.  _ Jim recalled. He nodded. “When are the tryouts?”

 

Carlos handed him a flyer he kept in a bundle in his bag. Jim had to practically hold a hand in front of his mouth as broken Spanish started flooding out uncontrollably. To which the taller boy responded by chuckling. He was so much more adorable in person. Jim tried to subdue a rising blush.  

* * *

  
  


 

Walter had completely forgotten about the antique pocket watch that was now resting on the coffee table, next to a pile of historical fiction novels. Jim was at Toby’s, probably playing that new game Jim couldn’t stop talking about the past few weeks, and Walter, Walter was home relaxing on the sofa. He’d calmed down significantly since he talked with Dr. Lake on the phone. The warm cuppa chamomile helped a lot too. 

 

Doctor Lake had reassured him that there was no real danger involved, but made him promise to bring Jim in for an examination immediately if he started feeling unwell. 

 

Walter reached his hand over to the jenga pile of novels trying to carefully balance the book he was holding on top of it when the strange pocket watch grabbed his attention again. He lifted it up carefully, examining the odd indents, the runes, the glowy circles and semicircles that formed on its blue stony surface. 

 

The runes that adorned the metallic casing where nothing like from what he’d studied. If Walter had to choose between the runic languages he had studied in university, or even stumbled upon randomly in Wikipedia in one of those late night ‘surfing’ adventures, he would only find miniscule similarities with fictional alphabets such as Tolkien’s elvish.

 

Was this just some sort of elaborate, magnificently crafted merchandise? It couldn’t be. It had spoken after all and his name on top of that. He brought closer to his face, squinting his eyes. The runes that adorned it swifted and morphed rapidly, changing to different languages and alphabets. Walter could swear that it was sanskrit at on point.    
  
Walter gawked at the sight unable to find a convincing scientific explanation. Other than magic of course. 

 

Preposterous. 

 

His train of thought was rudely interrupted by a loud thudding noise that came from the basement.  _ Seriously... _ this country and their oversized rodents.    
  
He put the strange watch on his pocket, searching for an adequate weapon to scare the little (he hoped) intruder away. He finally settled on a sturdy aluminum hilted broom.    
  
He descended into the basement, minding the old wooden creaky stair boards so that the intruder wouldn’t be scared off and forced into hiding and, by extension, increasing Walter’s time trying to find it.   
  


Reaching the basement floor, he reached for the light switch. He was determined to catch the little bugger in surprise. He clicked his tongue when the lights took what seemed an eternity to light up. They flickered mockingly.    
  
Walter lowered his gaze from the ceiling to the absolute mess that was their basement. 

 

What he met however, was not a rodent.

 

But 4 pairs of eyes. 

 

3 of them belonging to  **one** creature. One 7 to 8 foot blue, stony creature with a comically large head.   
  


“Ah, Master Walter!”, the creature exclaimed.

 

Walter fainted.    


  
  
  



End file.
